Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Room #11, Windows Open

and now then light
the little lamps, the ones that
though they don't do much work
still need to be on

and look out past 
the church tower, past
all the thrumming of 
the porch, the paths, 
look beyond the two tall
trees to the right
and find the invisible line
that separates
sea from sky, or
doesn't
at this time of day

listen to the French horn, 
the gull, the shiver of 
the branch by the window, 
the Canadians

come to know the way the 
palest blue, on the edge
of the farthest everything
rings true, goes beautifully
into the center, 
so that 
when you feel it come, that joy, 
to rest within 
your stomach, 
you're almost 
sick to it

1 comment:

  1. so beautiful Deva. Well crafted and incisive view. Thanks for sharing your gift.

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